


chrysalis/imago

by harlequin87



Category: Rugby Union RPF
Genre: 3+1, Coming Out, Gen, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 14:05:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19831777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harlequin87/pseuds/harlequin87
Summary: Three times Elliot came out and one time she didn't have to.





	chrysalis/imago

**Author's Note:**

> In honour of the RFU's new policy on trans and non-binary players.

1\. Jamie George

“No, come on, mate!” Jamie said, spluttering with laughter. “This café needs a bloody good name – it can’t just be a rugby pun. It needs to reflect us as people.”  
Elliot smiled indulgently at the hooker. They were both stretched out on their beds in their room at Pennyhill Park after a long day of training, running through the logistics of establishing a coffee shop in England camp. “That’s fine, Jinx, but it needs a bit of dignity. A stupid mashup of our names isn’t going to cut it.”  
Jamie rolled his eyes. “Look, I think ‘Café Jamiot’ is good. Anyway, we’re internationally renowned for being a pair of idiotic blokes with half a brain cell between us. At least it shows some creativity – man up and get with your own ideas if you don’t like mine.”

Elliot lay back on the bed, the light-hearted jokey mood punctured in an instant. In a men’s rugby team, it was surprising how infrequently that kind of comment was made – ‘it’s a real man’s game’, or ‘we’re all men here’. Perhaps the tacit assumption that, yes, nobody would dare violate that inner sanctum of the cisgender man, the international rugby team, made pointing it out unnecessary. But every time Elliot thought the defences had been rebuilt and raised high enough, another battering ram of a hit came in the form of a throwaway comment, and it all crumbled to pieces. It was like the sensation of a tap tackle – you think you’re through the gap and away clear, but at the last moment the smallest thing catches you off balance and you crash to the ground. Elliot focused on the ceiling, tracing the cracks in the paintwork with her eyes. She’d coped before, and she could again.

“Elliot? Are you alright, mate?” Jamie’s concerned voice cut through her mental flailing. She winced, realising the pause had been longer than usual. “I didn’t mean to insult you. It came out wrong.”  
She summoned a smile and rolled back over to face her friend. “No, it’s okay. I was just thinking: how about something kind of French-sounding? That’d be sophisticated.”  
Jamie hummed. “That’s a good one. Café Jamie d’Elliot?”  
Elliot laughed, mainly out of relief that Jamie had moved on. “I suppose that’s better, but maybe with surnames? It doesn’t sound formal enough.”  
The hooker tugged at his hair. “Yeah, but George is still a first name – Jinx instead?” At Elliot’s nod, he continued. “How about . . . Café Jinx à la Daly? To me, that says French, refined, good coffee. What do you think?”  
Elliot grinned and held out her hand for a high-five. “I like it. If it goes well, we should get a sign. Maybe some berets.”  
Jamie snorted, slapping her hand. “No berets, El. Eddie would kill us.” He glanced at his watch. “Speaking of which – we need to be at dinner in two minutes!”

As she locked the door behind them, Elliot felt the nervous churning in her stomach die down. Every time anything remotely connected to her gender came up – not even in reference to trans people, just as a simple assertion of her obviously being a man, one of the lads, not afraid to stand up for this band of brothers – the same shakiness threatened to overwhelm her. There wasn’t much fear of direct confrontation, given the environment in which she found herself, but the constant worry that a teammate would say something transphobic, or connect the dots, nagged at her. Protective mechanisms could only go so far (although the beard was a pretty effective one).

During dinner, Elliot was able to regain her composure. The team was in high spirits following the first win of the autumn internationals and she couldn’t help but be swept along with their raucous chatter. She suddenly heard Jamie’s voice loud above the rest, followed by hysterical laughter from the rest of his table. She glanced over to see George blushing furiously as Owen pulled him into his chest, face bright and happy. No, she reflected, most international rugby teams were bastions of cishet-ness, but this one seemed comfortable enough in subverting that stereotype. She turned back to her conversation with Dan, smiling.

Back in their room in the late evening, Jamie and Elliot were getting ready for bed when Jamie muttered something. Elliot looked round. “What was that, Jinx?”  
He pulled his T-shirt on over his head before replying, cheeks nearly as red as George’s had been earlier. “I was just . . . I wanted to ask you if everything’s okay. You were kind of – off, earlier, and I thought I should check.”  
Elliot went over to hug him. “I promise you, Jamie, it’s not a big deal. I can handle it.” She felt his shoulders relax under her grip. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, I really do, but it’s just a stupid little thing. Don’t worry.”  
Jamie stepped back. “If you’re sure . . . I’m always here to talk if you want.”  
Elliot ruffled his hair and grinned, wider this time. “I know you are. That’s why you’re my best friend.”  
“Okay, that’s it.” Jamie pulled back, shaking his head like a dog shaking off water. “Too many feelings for one day – let’s go to bed.” Elliot laughed and humoured him, climbing into bed. Jamie switched off the light, filling the room with darkness and silence.

Then Elliot heard her teammate shift under the covers. “Are you sure you’re okay, El? It’s just, one second you’re fine and everything’s normal, then the next, you seem to – almost shut down.” Elliot bit her lip nervously. She didn’t have to say anything, she reminded herself. She didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to. An unusually observant teammate was no reason to break down the walls she had so carefully constructed. And yet, she found herself wanting to tell the truth to Jamie. He deserved it, after so many years. Compared to any of her other friends, he was crossing a line by just asking. “You don’t have to tell me,” Jamie continued, “but I think it might help you to speak to someone.” He paused. A new hesitancy entered his voice. “There’s a guy at Sarries who I talk to, sometimes. It’s good, and none of the boys joke about it. You should try it.”

Elliot blinked back sudden tears. She knew Jamie couldn’t see them in the total absence of light, but he could probably guess from the tremor in her voice. “I suppose . . . Yes, there is something.” The words settled between them. She imagined a thread of tension running through the air. Elliot swallowed. “If I tell you, you can’t say anything to anyone else. Deal?”  
“Of course,” Jamie said immediately.  
“Okay.” Elliot had a sudden urge to bury her face in her pillow. There was still time to walk this back, to play it off as something else, to say she was just stressed- “I’m transgender.”

She screwed her eyes shut, waiting for the response. Her whole body was rigid. Then, slowly and deliberately, Jamie turned on the light. “You’re trans?” he asked, eyes wide. She nodded, unable to trust her voice (and not really wanting to hear it, now more than ever). “So, like, you identify as a gir- woman?”  
Elliot nodded, watching his every move. “I’m a woman.”  
Her friend’s face flickered through a hundred different emotions before settling on something approaching supportive. “I get that this seems obvious, but – this is a men’s rugby team?”  
“Nobody else knows,” she replied, suppressing an eye roll. “As far as anyone outside of this room knows, I am a man.”  
“But-”

“I’m not going to tell anyone, Jinx,” she said. The fear was rapidly being replaced by frustration and hurt. “Anyway, I wouldn’t be allowed to play women’s rugby – look at me.”  
Jamie winced. “Right. So, you’re a woman. I guess you don’t want different pronouns and stuff, if nobody else knows?”  
She sat up and made eye contact. All of a sudden, this seemed like a better idea. “That’s the best idea for now, yes. But-” she flushed- “I like it when you call me El, not Elliot. Maybe we could try you calling me Ellie, pretending it’s a joke – if that’s not too weird for you.”  
Jamie pushed off his covers to mirror her. “Okay, I can do that. We pretend you’re a guy and I call you Ellie, but we both know you’re actually not.”

Warmth grew in Elliot’s chest. It was still too soon to be certain, but Jamie didn’t look like he was about to run off and out her. She reached out her arms for a hug. “Come here,” she said roughly.  
Her best friend came over and wrapped his arms around her. “Do you feel better now, Ellie? I’m just happy it’s nothing serious, and I’m glad that you felt you could trust me.”  
She buried her face in his neck. “Yeah, I do,” she said wetly, still shaking slightly. “Promise me you won’t be weird about this? I don’t want to wake up tomorrow and you suddenly hate me.”  
“I don’t think I could ever hate you, El. You’re my best mate.”

The feelings aversion seemed to kick in again and he retreated to the safety of his own bed. “G’night,” Jamie muttered once more, and flicked off the light switch. As Elliot settled back down into her bed, she felt a sense of peace wash over her. There might still be repercussions, it might still backfire, but in that moment, telling Jamie was one of the best decisions she had ever made. Now she didn’t have to shoulder the burden alone, and there was one person with whom she could truly be herself.

2\. Dan Robson

A few months later, Elliot could look back on that evening and smile. Jinx’s behaviour had been beyond her wildest dreams since then: he hadn’t called her Elliot more than a few times in the autumn, while still managing to switch pronouns depending on whether there were other people around. It had worked out so well that she was considering coming out to someone else. Jamie was all for one of the Wasps players, while Elliot wasn’t so sure. It was more of a risk telling someone she would have to see every day, without anyone to back her up. They’d settled on a compromise of telling one of the lads who played for both England and Wasps in camp, so Jamie could at least be hovering to provide support if necessary.

Over the long winter evenings of seemingly endless Wasps socials with shifting groups of players and their partners, Elliot spent her time musing on who to tell. It wasn’t like they were Exeter; there wasn’t a huge choice of potential candidates. Basically, she could choose Joe, Nathan, Dan or Brad. It was a difficult decision, nonetheless. Nathan, she didn’t know that well, despite having been at the same club for several seasons. Brad was obviously an even newer acquaintance, although they had been in broadly the same social circles on tour in South Africa. Joe was too intimidating to even consider, let alone actually talk to. Then, Dobby. The scrum half had become one of her closest friends at the club in the two years they had played together. She considered them to be pretty close – he was nothing on Jamie, but she still had enough faith in him to trust him with her secret.

Jamie had been unfailingly supportive as she talked through the decision-making process with him over FaceTime. “I don’t know, Ellie,” he said, ducking out of shot to pick up a pair of trainers, then throwing them over his shoulder into a growing pile of mess. “Obviously I don’t really know Robson that well, but Joe’s got that leadership aspect, plus I can sort him out at England camp. But if you trust him . . .”  
Elliot flopped back on her bed amid piles of training gear. At least Jamie was managing to pack for camp while they were talking; she’d be here for days at this rate. “Me and Dobby are really close, and Joe’s just a bit too much of a captain, if you know what I mean? I’m too scared of letting him down to actually tell him the truth.”

Jamie dropped the last stack of shirts into his suitcase and came back to the phone. “In that case, go for Robson. When d’you think you’ll do it?”  
She shrugged, nerves gathering in her stomach. “Maybe when we have the break to go home before the Six Nations starts properly? Definitely by the end of the tournament.”  
As if sensing her anxiety, Jamie smiled reassuringly and reached out a hand to touch the phone screen. “If he’s a good bloke, then he’ll be fine. If not – screw him, and I’ll come and tell him that to his face.”  
Elliot grinned, reassured. “Thanks, Jinx. I know I’ll see you on Monday, but keep me updated on your boys. I love Saracens gossip.”  
Jamie returned the smile, but then his face grew serious. “Speaking of Sarries: how’re your contract negotiations going? Are you still thinking of staying at Wasps?”  
She winced. “I’m not sure. I mean, I like the team and all that, but so many people are already leaving. And I’ve had some pretty good offers elsewhere.”  
“Ooh, where?” Jamie looked like a kid on Christmas morning. “Do tell.”  
Elliot bit her lip. “You’ve got to promise not to tell anyone, okay?” Her best friend nodded immediately. “Bath, Newcastle, and-” she lowered her voice to a whisper- “Saracens.”

There was a whoop from the other end of the phone and Elliot’s screen suddenly went black. “Jinx?” she asked, confused.  
Jamie’s face reappeared, split by a grin. “Sorry, El, it’s just – Sarries! Are you going to go for it?”  
She looked at him, how he was radiating excitement and happiness. “Maybe. If I don’t stay, you’re top of my list.”  
Jamie winked. “You’re always at the top of my list, Ellie.” She groaned. “Anyway, think how cool that would be! We’d actually get paid to hang out, and you could meet all the non-England guys – you’d love Jackson, honestly – and we’d be able to spend time together actually in person.” He grinned bashfully. “I mean, it’s your decision, but . . . I’d love it if you came here.”  
“I would too,” she said sincerely. “Anyway, I need to pack now, so I’ll see you on Monday. Love you, Jinx.”  
“Love you, El.”

The conversation played on her mind for the next week. Even with all the England training and the pressure that came with an international environment, there was still enough downtime for reflection. She was having one such moment when Jamie barged into their room one afternoon, waving his phone. “Robson’s been called up!” he almost shouted.  
She sat up straight. “Really? Oh, wow.”  
“You know what this means, El?”  
“What?” she replied with apprehension.  
“I can meet him! And then you can talk to him about, y’know, stuff, and I can be just round the corner to beat him up if you want me to!”  
Elliot rubbed her eyes. “I know you’re trying to be helpful, but I don’t want to spring something like that on him in his first week. Let’s leave it a few weeks, you can vet him, and then I can see how I feel about it. Yeah?”  
Jamie’s gleeful expression dimmed slightly. “Okay.” He perked up a bit. “Hey, it’s cool, though. You get another Wasp, the team gets a new scrum half – I get to meet another one of your mates, who hopefully isn’t a raging transphobe!”  
Elliot grinned. She knew she kept Jamie around for a reason. “Thanks, Jamie. I’m excited for you to meet him too.”

Her idea seemed vindicated over the course of the next few days. Even though Dan already knew quite a few players, there was still something of the rabbit in the headlights about him, especially after his first meeting with Eddie. “I just don’t understand what he wants,” Dan grumbled, stretching on the floor next to Elliot’s bed, where she was propped up on her elbows watching him. “He’s all ‘go forwards, be daring, kick properly’, but I thought I was doing that. How am I supposed to be all aggressive if I’m only watching Ben and Danny? And I must have been doing something right to be here – but then it just feels like I’m on the floor and you guys are at the top of Big Ben.” He groaned and hit his head on the carpet. “Enlighten me, Elliot. Us Wasps boys need to stick together.”  
Elliot smiled tightly, glad that Dan couldn’t see her flinch. “I think we all felt that way at first. Just give him a chance. You might not even realise that your play’s improved until we go back to club level: at least, that’s what happened to me.”

Dan rolled over on to his back and opened his mouth to continue complaining. But then the door swung open and crashed against the wall, startling both Wasps players upright. “Sorry?” Jamie said sheepishly, biting his lip. “Hey, Dan. What’re you doing down there?”  
Elliot cut in before Dan could resume his rant. “He’s suffering from imposter syndrome and a strong case of ‘Eddie hates me’-itis.”  
“Oh, just like the rest of us at first, then,” Jamie said. “It’ll get better, Dan. Eddie’s very particular about his teams, but once you get what he’s trying to say, it’s so much easier.”  
Dan shrugged. “If you say so, Jamie.”  
“I do say so, grasshopper. Now, I need to have a word with Ellie here, so we’re going to step outside for a moment. Back in a sec!” Jamie leaned forward and pulled Elliot behind him by the arm. The door closed firmly behind them and Elliot stared at the hooker.

“Jinx, I hate to break it to you, but – we’re literally in a corridor. Couldn’t you have just got Dan to leave?”  
Jamie affected a wise expression. “No, that’s all part of my cunning plan. He literally can’t go, so we can have this talk while making sure he doesn’t run away.” Elliot rolled her eyes, but he ploughed on. “So, I’ve been thinking, about your-“ he coughed- “plan. And I was thinking we should test the waters a bit first, hmm?”  
“Okay . . .”  
“So, I masterfully just called you Ellie in front of him, because rugby nicknames, ha ha ha, yeah? Did you see his reaction?”  
Elliot shook her head, bewildered. “I was too busy focusing on not falling over as you yanked me out the door.”  
“Well, I think I have discovered something. I don’t know if this is because he’s dubious or because he’s just not used to that as a name for you, but he did not look pleased.” He pulled her in for a hug. “I’m not saying that means anything, but I wanted you to be aware.”

She squeezed him tightly. “Thanks, mate. I thought you were just being ridiculous like usual, but that was actually a good idea.”  
He scoffed. “Always the tone of surprise. But no, seriously, El. I don’t want you telling someone who could out you.”  
“Me neither. But I trust Dobby. I really hope it’s not that.”  
Jamie took a step back and wiped his eyes. “Let’s just know that it’s a possibility and hope for the best.” Elliot nodded and patted his shoulder. “Okay, let’s put him out of his misery.”

Over the next few weeks, Elliot couldn’t help but act distantly from Dan. It was possible that he was transphobic and couldn’t deal with even the thought of one of his teammates being trans, but then again only Jamie ever called her Ellie. Aside from that moment, neither she nor Jamie had noticed anything strange about his behaviour, even during some of Jamie’s delicately introduced conversations about LGBT topics and even, most memorably, a hypothetical situation involving Caitlyn Jenner as a rugby player. She just had to believe in him.

A few days after the France game, Dan seemed to have settled down. A first cap would do that to you, Elliot reflected. Jamie had been making increasingly unsubtle comments about ‘getting on with it’ that could only have confused the others with their cryptic nature. She knew there was a time limit of a few weeks in which she had to tell him, or she would lose Jamie’s supportive presence. Finally, in one of the fallow weeks of the Six Nations, on the Thursday evening before the team would be released to go home, Jamie shoved Dan through the door of their room, practically on top of a surprised Elliot, and closed it behind him, shouting, “You’ll thank me later!”

Elliot took a deep breath. Maybe this was the right way for Jamie to do things, and perhaps apposite in his role as a forward – tackling problems head-on with brute force. But she was a back, for all her faults, and she preferred skirting around the issues rather than smashing straight through them. Dan picked himself up off the floor where he had fallen and tried the door. “He’s locked it,” Dan said, rattling the handle apologetically.  
“Can’t you try putting your back into it? You might be able to force it.” Elliot sat back on her bed, enjoying the spectacle of a diminutive scrum half trying to break down a door in spite of herself.  
“I think he’s put a chair up against it or something,” Dan panted, glaring at the door. “I can’t get through.”  
Elliot shrugged. “Eh, whatever. I do need to talk to you about something though.” The familiar nerves started to churn in her stomach.

“Yeah, what was it that Jinx said? ‘You’ll thank me later’, or something?” Dan sat down on Jamie’s bed opposite her. His face was a mixture of interest and concern. “What’s wrong?”  
Elliot clasped her hands together in an effort to stop them visibly shaking. “Nothing’s wrong, I promise. Well, it kind of depends on your point of view . . .”  
“Okay. Now I’m worried, man.” Dan’s eyes were wide and Elliot could almost pity him.  
“So, do you remember a few weeks ago when you were first in camp, that day when you were complaining to me about Eddie and how everything was awful?” Dan nodded. “And then Jamie came in and I went and had a chat with him outside.” She took a deep breath. “Do you remember what he called me?”  
“Ellie.” Dan replied immediately, squinting in confusion. “But that’s just a rugby nickname, surely? Like, nobody calls me Dobby seriously.”  
Elliot barely had time to repress the rising feeling of foreboding before speaking again. “That might be true for some people, but for me . . . It’s a big deal.”  
Dan scrubbed a hand across his face. “Sorry, but I don’t understand. Are you trying to tell me that you want a new nickname? Because Briefcase isn’t that bad, let’s be honest.”

Ignoring the shakiness in her throat, her hands, her stomach, she pressed on. “No, it’s not that. I – I prefer to be called Ellie.” She forced herself to meet his gaze. “And I prefer that name because . . . well, because I’m a woman. I’m transgender.”

Dan’s eyes widened in shock, then furrowed in confusion, and finally settled on something close to fear. “What the hell?” he breathed. “Elliot, that’s not possible. You’re a rugby player. You can’t just – be transgender.”  
She dug her nails into her palms. “Yes, I can. I am. I’ve always been trans, since before you knew me.”  
Dan got to his feet and edged towards the door. “So I’ve never known you as a normal person? You’ve always been hiding this?” He hit his hand against the door. “Elliot, I don’t know what to say. I want to leave.” She ran a hand through her hair, powerless to stop the onrush of tears. Mercifully, the door opened and Dan left the room, leaving her alone with her poisonous thoughts. Everything she thought she’d moved past, every little joke in the locker room, every unkind word flooded back to her in that moment and she cried for what seemed like an age.

Without her knowing, Jamie had entered the room and crouched down next to her head where she lay on the bed. “El?” he asked softly, gently resting a hand on her shoulder. “El, I’m so sorry. He’s a moron, and you don’t deserve this.” Her best friend’s calming words pierced through the black fog surrounding her, but she only sobbed harder. “Shh, come here,” Jamie murmured, leaning into her outstretched arms for a hug. “I won’t ask you to repeat what he said, but – is it worth me going and having a chat with him? Or do you want to just leave him to cool off for a bit?”  
“Stay,” Elliot hiccupped, tightening her grip on his shoulders. “He’s a twat. And we’re going home tomorrow anyway.”  
“Okay,” Jamie said, ruffling her hair, “I’ll leave him to stew in his own unpleasant juices for a while.” She sniffed and he fell silent.

After a few minutes, Elliot pushed herself up into a sitting position. Jamie curled a protective arm around her and waited for her to speak. When she did, it was with a tone full of frustration and regret. “I just – I thought he’d be cool about it, or – at the very least – he wouldn’t basically call me a freak and run away.”  
Jamie sucked in a breath. “Ellie, that’s horrible. I don’t . . . He looked like he’d seen a ghost when I passed him in the corridor and I almost felt sorry for him, but now I think I should’ve punched him.”  
She rested her head against his shoulder. “And we were really good mates as well. We went on holiday together, and Michelle and Jaggs got on so well too. Oh God, Michelle.” She screwed her eyes shut. “I don’t know what I’m going to say to her tomorrow. I can’t face telling her and having another rejection, but she won’t take no for an answer.”

Jamie sighed. “I mean, two bad reactions in two days would not be the ideal situation. You could just say that Eddie was a bit harsh on you in training and you’re miserable because of that? Everyone outside of the team thinks Eddie’s a weirdo anyway, so it would at least be convincing.”  
Elliot grimaced. “I suppose. I don’t want to lie to her, but I definitely can’t tell her the truth.” She slumped back on Jamie’s chest. “On balance, Eddie’s evil reputation is probably the best bet. She’s never met him either, so . . .”  
Jamie resumed stroking her hair. “Sounds like a plan, then. Are you going to go to dinner? I can get you something if you don’t want to risk it.”  
She sighed, then yawned. “Um, if you could, that would be great. I don’t want to see Dan, or anyone else to see me.”  
“Okay. I’ll go down and eat, then bring you some food.” He slid off the bed, then turned back and squeezed her hand tightly. “And whatever happens – I’ve got you, and I’m so proud of you.” Elliot smiled weakly and pressed her face into the covers to hide her tears as Jamie left. Maybe Dan had ended up as a bad decision, but Jamie was still her best mate. And if losing a few friends was the price she had to pay for being honest about herself, then maybe it was worth it. Not right now, but in the end, it would be worth it.

3\. Michelle Cussell

In the weeks following the Six Nations, Elliot had struggled to connect with her fiancée. They both knew that something was wrong – the absence of Dan and Jaggs stood testament to that – but neither of them wanted to confront it. So instead they drifted on, making minimal conversation and refusing to acknowledge any emotions outside of the norm. But one Sunday night, when the team wasn’t playing because of their failure to progress in the Champions’ Cup, the doorbell rang. “It’s for you,” Michelle shouted up the stairs.  
Elliot hurriedly pulled a hoodie on. “Coming!” she yelled, smoothing her hair into place as she jogged to the door. As she saw who was standing in the doorway, she jolted to a stop. The blood seemed to drain from her, replaced by dread. It was Dan.

They had barely spoken outside of training in the weeks since her confession, and even those brief interactions were stilted and uncomfortable. Now he was standing on her doorstep, wringing his hands. “Do you want to come in?” she offered, pushing her own hands deep into her pockets. Michelle had already made a quick retreat, and Elliot couldn’t blame her.  
Dan shifted uneasily, then bared his teeth in an approximation of a grin. “Yeah, if I could,” he muttered. Elliot led him into the kitchen and slowly made a cup of tea for them both – anything to delay the inevitable.

Once they were seated across the table, Elliot broke the silence. “What do you want to talk about?”  
Dan brought his eyes up to meet hers. “You know last time we talked, in England camp-”  
She cut him off. “Yes, I remember. If you’re going to start that again, you can leave now.”  
He flinched. “Okay, I suppose I deserved that.” He took a deep breath, mirroring Elliot. “So, I’ve been thinking since then. I want to say sorry. What I said was wrong, and I hurt you.” Elliot snorted, and he blushed. “It was really shitty, and I’m really sorry. You’re still the same person, you just have different pronouns and that kind of thing.” Elliot tried to restrain herself from rolling her eyes. _Well done,_ she wanted to say, _what an enlightened little rugby player you are._

Dan seemed to be encouraged by the lack of a response and ploughed on. “So, Jamie George may or may not have had a go at me for what I said to you, and it made me think. How can I help to make you more comfortable around the club?”  
Elliot relaxed slightly, tension leaving her shoulders. “Rule number one is: don’t ever use the wrong pronouns around the wrong people. That happens, and I’m basically off the team. Rule number two: shut down any kind of transphobia, homophobia, whatever. If it’s only me doing it, someone’s going to figure it out – plus it’s just the decent thing to do.” Dan nodded. A new edge entered her voice. “And rule number three: for the love of God, don’t tell anyone. Only me, you and Jinx know anything about this, and that’s the way it’s going to stay for the foreseeable future. Got it?”

The scrum half smiled hesitantly. “Yes, El – can I call you Ellie? In, like, a subtle way, obviously.”  
“If you want,” she shrugged, trying to contain a matching smile. “Although only if you can make it sound like a rugby nickname. Don’t just waltz in tomorrow and start throwing it around.”  
Dan’s smile broadened. “Yeah, okay. We have to be sneaky until people get used to it. I get it.” Elliot grinned back at him, all tension and residual fear evaporating in the haze of warmth surrounding them. Taking her smile for the acceptance it was, Dan moved the conversation on to generic rugby chat, slipping back into the usual patterns almost as if there had never been an issue.

A few hours later, when Dan decided to go home, Elliot accompanied him to the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow at training, mate,” she said, punching him lightly on the shoulder.  
“Yeah – see you then, Ellie!” Dan winked as he walked away. Elliot sighed happily. Jamie was going to be pleased as punch when he heard what Dan had done.

“What was that about, love?” Michelle asked, joining him at the door and resting a hand on his arm. “Why did he call you Ellie? It’s not like you’re a girl or anything.” She let out a high giggle. “Imagine! You, a proper man’s man, as a woman!” She tipped her head against his shoulder. “Come on, Elliot, that’s funny.”  
Elliot couldn’t bring herself to respond. After the release of tension that was her conversation with Dan, suddenly she froze at her fiancée’s comment. Forcing herself to make some kind of reply, she gritted out, “Oh, yeah, hilarious.”  
Her clipped tone clearly didn’t convince Michelle. “Elliot, I’m a bit worried about you at the moment. You’re acting very strangely. First you didn’t talk to Dan for weeks, and now you won’t laugh at something funny like you as a woman. What’s up?”

Elliot could feel the panic rising and her throat constricting. Sweat was breaking out on her forehead and cold dread was filling her veins.  
“Well?” Michelle demanded. “Tell me, Elliot.”  
“I- I can’t-” she stammered, feeling as if the ground was swaying.  
“Come on. Man up!”  
“I – give me a minute?”

She bolted up the stairs and into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. She grabbed blindly at her pockets, exhaling with relief as she found her phone. On autopilot, she rang Jamie. “Please pick up, please pick up,” she gasped, curling into the corner.  
After a succession of increasingly panicked breaths, the call connected. “El?” Jamie asked. “You sound a bit off. Are you okay?”  
“No. No, I’m not okay.”  
“Did Dan talk to you? I had a word with him and he promised to stop being an idiot.”

“No, Dan was fine. It’s just – he called me Ellie, and Michelle heard, and she was just making transphobic comments, and I freaked out, and now I’m in the bathroom calling you.”  
“Hey, hey, breathe, El,” Jamie instructed. “It’s going to be okay. Maybe not right now, but it will be. Remember how Dan took weeks to come round? You can tell Michelle now, or just walk it back and play it off as a joke. Yeah? Or I can talk to her and make something up about Eddie – works every time.”

Elliot tipped her head back against the wall, forcing air into her lungs. “Okay. Yes.” It was a simple decision when it came down to it. Tell Michelle and risk everything, or not tell her and stay in the closet. She gritted her teeth. Obviously telling her fiancée was going to happen at some point, but she had never planned to do it so soon. She hadn’t even had time to test the waters and see if she was likely to be accepting. Instead, she had to take a blind leap of faith and hope that it would all work out.

“Ellie? Are you still there?” Jamie’s concerned voice broke through her spiralling thoughts. “Do you want me to ring Dan?”  
“No. No, it’s okay,” she breathed quietly. “I’m going to do it. Right now.”  
“Alright, mate. Good luck – and I’ll call later to check in, if you want.”  
Elliot smiled despite herself. “That would be great. Thanks, Jinx.” Cradling the warm hope her best friend had sparked in her chest, she ended the call. Now all that stood between her and the next conversation with Jamie was the tiny and (ideally) inconsequential matter of coming out to Michelle. No big deal. No problem. Not an issue – not at all.

Hauling herself to her feet, she carefully unlocked the bathroom door and went out into the corridor, ignoring her shaking hands. “Michelle?” she called, voice cracking.  
“In the kitchen, babe,” her fiancée replied. Elliot sucked in a breath and walked down the stairs and into the kitchen.  
Michelle was stood there, stirring pasta in a saucepan. “I’m just making dinner, love,” she said. “Do you want tomato sauce or pesto?”

She shook her head. “We need to talk.”  
“Hmm?” Michelle glanced at Elliot as she took some plates out of the cupboard. “I was feeling pesto myself, but if that’s what you want-“  
“Can you please listen, Mich?” Elliot interrupted, nails digging into her palms. “I have something to say.” Something in her tone clearly broke through Michelle’s consciousness and she sat down at the table.

Elliot slowly moved to the chair opposite her. It was now or never. Pushing down the nerves in her stomach, she balled her hands in her lap, out of sight. “So, I want to talk about earlier.” Michelle cocked her head to the side, brow furrowing. “When Dan left, and he called me Ellie, and you said it was funny that someone could see me as a woman.”  
“I mean, it is funny,” Michelle said with a weak smile. “I don’t see why you’re making such a fuss about it.”

Elliot forced herself to exhale before replying. “It might be funny to you, but for me . . . It’s a lot more personal. See, you saying that me being a woman is something to laugh about really hurt me, because-” _Here goes nothing; take the leap._ “I’m transgender. I am a woman.” She closed her eyes and waited. It was out there now, for Michelle to react to as she wished.

“Really?” Michelle sounded incredulous. Then, noticing Elliot’s wince, she softened her voice. “I didn’t mean that – I’m sorry. I . . .” Elliot bit her lip. If Jamie called now, she could leave this room and this conversation without any confrontation. Please, Jinx, please . . . “God, Elliot, I’m sorry. I just don’t know what to say. When I look at you, all I see is the man that I fell in love with. Not that – not that you being trans is wrong or anything. You say that you’re a woman, so you are one. But I got engaged to a man. I’m straight, and thinking about it isn’t going to change me.” She reached out and rested a hand on her fiancée’s arm. “Can you look at me, El- Ellie?” Elliot slowly made eye contact with her, conscious of how tears were beginning to roll down her cheeks.

“So what you’re saying is that you accept me, but you’re breaking up with me?” Elliot got out through gritted teeth.  
Michelle nodded apologetically. “I’m sorry, Elliot. It’s not you, it’s me.”  
Elliot sighed. “That’s fine. If you don’t want us to be together, then I won’t fight you on it. I’ll get out of your hair.” Ignoring the tremors coursing through her body, she mechanically stood up and walked to the front door. Before stepping outside, she turned back. “I’ll call you later, okay?”  
Michelle nodded again. “Thank you, Elliot. It’s for the best.”

Elliot unlocked her car and got inside, ignoring the resolute clunk as the door of the house closed behind her. Suddenly the gravity of the situation hit her and she burst into tears, leaning her head on the steering wheel. She wept in silence, not caring who might see her. Then, the ringing of her phone gradually entered her conscience. Her heart leapt – Michelle might want her back after all.

With shaking hands, Elliot accepted the call. “Hey, Ellie,” said Jamie.  
“Hi, Jinx,” she replied, her tone despondent.  
“I said that I’d call to check in, so here I am, checking in. How are you?” The hope in his voice made her feel even worse.  
“I told her, and she basically said that it was fine, but she’s straight, so we’re over,” Elliot hiccupped. “I’m sat outside the house in my car. I don’t know what to do.”  
“Oh God, El. I’m so sorry. That must have been awful to hear that.” She nodded, wiping at her eyes. “Do you think you’re safe to drive now? I could ask Dan to come and pick you up . . .”  
“No, it’s okay. I can drive. Can you text Dan that I’m coming over, though? I don’t want to have to relive the whole experience telling it to him.”  
Jamie hummed. “Of course, mate. And – we’ve got a few days off now, so I could drive up if you wanted? We don’t have to talk about this – I’ve just missed seeing your face recently.”

Elliot bit her lip. “I’d love to see you, Jinx, but I’m basically throwing myself at Dan’s mercy for somewhere to sleep. I can text you later if he and Jaggs are okay with you staying with them as well.”  
“Okay, cool,” Jamie replied. “I’ll see you soon, El. I’ve just messaged Dan and he’s fine with you being there. Remember, though – this isn’t your fault. You’re a crazy-talented, beautiful, funny person and we’re all so lucky to know you. If she doesn’t want to be around you anymore, then that’s her loss.”  
“Love you, Jamie,” Elliot said around the lump in her throat.  
“I love you too, Ellie,” he replied in an equally thick tone. “I’ll see you in a few days.”

She hung up, brushing away the tears that had fallen during their conversation. She quickly texted Dan and then drove away from the house. She had so many memories in that place, but now she couldn’t stand being there for a moment longer. Taking a deep breath, she reminded herself that Dan too had initially responded in an even more hostile way. He’d basically said that she was a freak, but now he was the one offering her somewhere to stay. Maybe – hopefully – the trust she’d placed in Michelle would eventually be repaid in the same way.

It was evening by the time she arrived at Dan’s house, at that point of the twilight when the shadows were lengthening but the stars were not yet pricking through the sky. She stood on the doorstep, hands in her pockets, suppressing the nerves in her stomach. Dan had only really affirmed his support a few hours earlier, so wasn’t this a bit soon to be throwing herself on him for help? She huffed out a breath, hurriedly fixing a smile to her face as the door swung open.

“Ellie, hey,” Dan said, gathering her into a hug. “I’m so sorry. Jamie told me – well, he told me what you told him. Come in.” In a strange mirroring of their earlier conversation, Dan led her into the kitchen and offered her a seat at the dining table. “So, I haven’t told Jaggs anything apart from that you’ve had an argument with Michelle,” he continued tentatively. “Do you want me to give her any other details? I’ve told her it’s still a sensitive time, so she’s fine with you having the spare room.”  
Elliot smiled gratefully at him. “I think that’s enough for now, Dobby, thanks. Maybe tomorrow, though. There doesn’t seem much point in hiding it now.” She stared at her hands. “I was scared of coming out because I didn’t want to lose the most important people in my life: you, Jamie, Michelle, and my family. You two are fine, Michelle seems to have decided that she doesn’t want to try, and my family are kind of separate to this whole situation. So I don’t see why not. It can’t do any more damage.”

Dan laid a hand on hers, blinking furiously. “I hadn’t thought about it that way before, mate. That’s a horrible situation to be in. I’m really sorry that I made it so much worse for you by being a dick.”  
She smiled weakly. “Hey, it’s okay. We’re here now.” They sat there in silence, seemingly out of words. Elliot coughed. “Would it be alright if Jamie stayed here too for a few days? He’d be fine sleeping on the floor in my room. Obviously you two have been really kind already, and I don’t want to impose . . .”  
“I’ll talk to Jaggs when she gets home from work, but it should be fine. The step up from two to three rugby players in the house can’t be that noticeable, and I do all the cooking anyway.” Elliot squeezed his hand in gratitude.

The conversation lapsed again, but the atmosphere wasn’t awkward. Instead, Elliot felt Dan’s warm embrace and the acceptance offered to her in this house. Maybe outside everything wouldn’t be sunshine and roses when she came out, but in this small cottage on the outskirts of Coventry, she knew there were people she could rely on. It was her and Dan and Jamie against the world in that moment. A small team, but a deeply caring one which had her back. She exhaled and let a smile form on her face. Maybe – just maybe – things would turn out okay. Maybe not everything, and maybe not perfectly, but some things, okay. That was all she could hope for.

+1. Eddie Jones

It was the first day of England’s June training camp for the World Cup. Everyone bar the Exeter and Saracens players had arrived and settled into their rooms earlier in the day, congregating in one of the large communal areas before dinner. The main topic of conversation was the absence of some of the most established squad members: Danny Care, Chris Robshaw, and Nathan Hughes.

“I really don’t get it,” Marcus Smith was saying. “Why the hell did Eddie pick me or Alex – no offence, mate – over those guys?” Dombrandt smiled sheepishly. “They’re incredible and they’ve been with the team so long. I’m barely twenty, for God’s sake!” Elliot shifted in her seat. With Jamie still on enforced rest with the other Saracens players and Dan out for months, she was spending most of her time with George and Jonny (not a bad swap by any means, just not a duo she’d talked to much before). If Jamie or Dan were there, maybe she would have been more forthright with her opinions, but instead she kept quiet.

“I reckon there’s something going on with those three,” Mark Wilson replied, chin resting on his hands. “Like, Nathan had that Twitter fight over Caster Semenya, which looks bad for the game, so Eddie’s taken him off the team as a warning.”  
“Okay, so Nathan’s out for supporting a man competing in women’s sport – and Chris is always pretty vocal about that kind of thing too. Eddie might want to get rid of all the queers before it gets serious; everyone knows they can’t handle the pressure.”

Elliot squeezed her eyes shut. She didn’t recognise the voice, and she didn’t want to know. General ignorance, she could accept, but outright transphobia was painful enough for her to sink low into her chair and bite her lip. The unknown teammate would only have to mention Folau and the triad of idiocy would be completed, she thought mirthlessly.

“Hey, mate, don’t be a git!” This time the northern tones of Fordy were unmistakable. “They’re both good guys, and great players. Whatever you think of their behaviour outside of the game shouldn’t impact their selection. Anyway, it’s Eddie’s opinion that matters, not yours.” Several voices murmured in agreement. “I think it’s time for food now, lads, so let’s be civil and go eat.”

Elliot smiled to herself. Despite one or two pricks, she trusted most of her teammates to be fundamentally decent people. Fordy standing up for Nathan and Chris – and Caster in a more indirect way – showed that she could have people like him in her corner if she ever chose to tell him. It was a good feeling, and she cherished the warmth in her chest throughout the meal amidst the standard rugby banter and match analysis.

After dinner, Eddie stood up and gave a short welcoming speech, handing out timetables for the next few days and reminding them of the behaviour he was expecting. It was all bog-standard and boring, until he closed with, “Elliot, I’d like to see you in my office in ten minutes.” Surrounded by curious teammates, she couldn’t do anything but nod and try not to show her sudden fear. The buzzing happiness had drained away instantaneously and now she was as cold as earlier.

Doing her best to ignore the comments from the other players, she walked out of the room and made her way to the closest toilet. She locked herself into a cubicle and sat down, pulling out her phone. _Eddie wants to talk to me in five,_ she texted Jamie. _Don’t know what about. Absolutely shitting myself. Positive vibes?_ After a moment’s consideration, she copied the message and pasted it into her conversation with Dan. She leaned her head against the wall and forced a deep breath out of her lungs. It could just be about room assignments, or a variation in her training plan. It didn’t have to be about – that. She sat there for a few more minutes, focusing on breathing steadily and keeping the panic at bay.

Finally, she dragged herself up and went out into the corridor. Once she reached Eddie’s office, she stopped and checked her messages. Dan had texted _you’ve got this, you’re great, I will beat up anyone for you including the coach of our national team, he probably just wants to talk about your awesome long-range kicking anyway._ Jamie’s text was simply _remember he wants the best for you and I love you Ellie_ , followed by a string of hearts. She smiled in spite of the roiling in her stomach, knocked on the door, and went inside.

Eddie was sat behind a desk littered with scraps of paper and half-empty coffee cups smiling genially, exactly as Elliot would have expected. “Hi, Elliot,” he said, “take a seat. Thanks for being here.” She smiled tentatively. “You’re not in trouble by the way, I just felt there was something we needed to clear up.” For the second time in as many hours, her stomach dropped. A sense of foreboding crept into her mind. There was nothing she could do now. She couldn’t leave the room without effectively ending her international career three months before a World Cup, she couldn’t shut down a conversation with Eddie Jones of all people, and she most definitely could not come out to the aforementioned coach of the national men’s team.

As if sensing her unease, Eddie grinned. “I told you it won’t be anything bad. Haven’t you realised that I don’t mince my words?” The corner of Elliot’s mouth quirked up almost against her will and she nodded wryly. “Good. Then perhaps you’ll stop looking like I’m a cat and you’re the mouse.” With more conscious effort this time, Elliot forced her lips into an approximation of a smile and relaxed her clenched fists. Eddie paused, and they held eye contact for a long second before she dropped her gaze.

“I don’t want to beat about the bush with you, Elliot. I suppose you’ve noticed that several experienced players aren’t here?” She nodded silently. “Chris and Nathan both have legitimate rugby reasons for not being in camp. Danny, however . . . Let’s just say that he came to me a few weeks ago with a rumour about one of the most consistent players in the squad and presented it as grounds for that player’s dismissal from the team.” The blood drained from Elliot’s face. Surely Danny hadn’t- “But because I take the bond between my players seriously, I decided not to select him for this training camp, and for longer if necessary.” He leaned forward. “I want you to know, Elliot, that you have my full support both as a player and as a person, and that any personal developments will not preclude your selection in my team.”

Compelled to speak by the gentle expression on Eddie’s face, Elliot said with a trembling voice, “What did Danny say to you?”  
Eddie looked at her, something rather like pity in his eyes. “He told me that you are transgender – that is, a woman, and for concealing that you could not be picked or even trusted.” Elliot bowed her head. The coach continued with more urgency in his voice. “If that is true, then I should emphasise that I support your decisions, whether that involves playing with this team while in the closet, or deciding to come out and take up the women’s game.”

His words hung in the air between them. Elliot was so overcome that her nerves were now manifesting themselves in full-body shaking. “It is true,” she whispered. “I am trans. I’m a woman and my name is Ellie.” Struck by the gravity of the moment, she buried her face in her hands. They sat for a minute before anyone spoke again.

“Thank you for telling me, Ellie. I really appreciate how difficult this is for you, and I hope you trust me enough to believe that I will continue to select you until you decide that you want to pursue other options.”  
In spite of her wet face, she laughed quietly. “Based on my performance, I hope!”  
Eddie grinned at her. “Obviously – we have a tournament to win!” His face became serious. “But, to be serious – I’m proud of you for your honesty, even if it was in a less than ideal situation, and I’ve got your back.”

Some of the contentment from earlier was beginning to seep back into Elliot’s veins. “Thank you, Eddie. It means a lot.” Her phone buzzed and she quickly checked it to see a line of question marks from Jamie. She wiped her eyes and smiled to herself.  
“Who was that?” Eddie said casually, but with a hint of irritation at her breaching of the usual camp rules.  
“Jinx,” she replied. “I texted him about this meeting, and he’s getting a bit angsty.”  
“Oh,” Eddie said, eyebrows raised. “I take it he knows, then?”  
She nodded, unable to repress her relief. “Yeah. He was the first person I told, then Dan – Robson – and then Michelle, my, um, well, ex-fiancée, and now you.”  
His eyes widened. “Wow. I’m honoured.” He trailed off, seemingly lost for words. Elliot bit back a laugh. Eddie Jones, speechless – this would be something to tell Jinx and Dobby afterwards.

“Well, thank you for a productive meeting,” Eddie said, blinking away his reverie. “If you have any problems, don’t hesitate to come and find me. Rugby is an inclusive sport, and I’ll prove it to you all by myself if I have to.”  
She leaned across the desk and shook his hand. “Thanks, Eddie. I really appreciate it.”  
“Okay, okay,” he sat back in his chair. “Go and talk to your actual friends now – and make sure that Jamie and Dan don’t hear about this new soft side of me!” Elliot gave a mock salute and backed out of the room.

In the corridor outside, she exhaled and let a grin spread across her face. Eddie knew. Eddie was fine with it. Eddie was apparently supportive of any outcome. Essentially, Eddie was a human being with both a brain and a heart. _Don’t worry,_ she texted her friends. _He’s a good one._ She tucked her phone away and stretched out her arms. Nothing could bring her down in that moment. Yes, there had been bad times in the past, and yes, there would be bad times in the future. But with the backing of two great friends and the national coach (of all people!), things were looking decidedly up.


End file.
